


Bested

by nothandlingit



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothandlingit/pseuds/nothandlingit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are more than True Love and kisses and tales told to children – they are the kind of meant-to-be-together that is prophesied in the stars for centuries. The same stars that had guided Killian to Neverland, the same stars that Emma had wished upon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bested

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the 2nd sneak peek for “Birth” (and the fact that I’m pretty sure my heart isn’t going to make it past Sunday.)

The damn pirate. That damn fucking pirate. With his blue eyes and pure love and constant poking and prodding. It was never meant to be hard. Being the Dark One was supposed to make it easy – it was supposed to remove her emotions so she could get the job done. But it has only intensified everything.

She probably loves him more now than she did in that field of flowers. And that’s not something she ever thought possible.

But she must remain focused, must see to the task at hand. It’s all that matters. _He_ is all that matters.

At least the darkness has had one use. She feels no guilt for dedicating every part of her waking hours to helping Killian Jones.

He had told her once that she was his happy ending and, she may have been a little bit slower to admit it but, he is hers as well. And it’s about damn time she fought for her happy ending.

So, giving herself one task and one task only, she sets out to right the horrendous wrong of their time in Camelot. She sets out to bring him back to her.

And it has been the hardest fucking thing she has ever done. Watching from the outside as her family rebuild their lives around her, as they find ways to move on without their memories, as they fight, as they always have, for the greater good. She remembers standing by their side and sacrificing everything she had to save them all. She remembers begging them to save her. She remembers her love for Killian and she remembers how much it had hurt when he’d been all but lost to her.

And it’s that thought which ultimately breaks and rebuilds her every day. Every moment she is away from him is a moment she is fighting to help him, fighting her own battles on her own side. Not in darkness, never in darkness, but always appearing so.

She’s been reminded at every turn that this is the only way; that she must fool the voices in her head into believing she is carrying out their wishes, turn her back on the world painted in shades of grey and see it only in black and white. Evil and good.

Even when he tells her that he only once loved her and no longer does, even when he breaks her heart in two, when he can’t see past the shroud of darkness, she still sticks to her plan, to her destiny. Because she can see it now, just as Merlin had – she and Killian are meant to be together. Not in the way she might have believed. More than that. More than True Love and kisses and tales told to children – they are the kind of meant-to-be-together that is prophesied in the stars for centuries. The same stars that had guided Killian to Neverland, the same stars that Emma had wished upon.

That is what she is fighting for.

So she keeps her walls high, her aim true, focusing all her energy on ensuring Killian makes it out of this alive.

And, for a while, it is easy. For a moment it comes naturally; she plays the part. But, after that moment passes, he wears her down, he cuts beneath her defences, pulls her away from her objective.

He demands to know why she has succumbed to the darkness and she refuses to tell him with a roll of her hips and seduction in her voice. And, for that flicker of a second, it’s enough to deter him. But then she needs something from him and she allows herself to be drawn in again; with the constant waves their only companion on his ship, she allows the skin of his hand to brush hers, allows her heart a moment to yearn. She knows he sees it in her eyes, sees the weakness and the desperation to just make this all _right_. She wishes she could tell him how wrong it all was to start with.

But she holds firm and stays strong, stepping away from her love and allowing the voices in her head to speak to her for a little while – keeping them close should she need them.

And it’s easy, again, for a while, easy to go through what she needs to do step by step, utilise her resources and reforge Excalibur. It’s easy to push her reasons from her mind and simply get it done. But the deadline inches nearer and nearer and suddenly she finds herself in the woods with a King undeserving of his title and her pirate, her beautiful, brave, _stupid_ pirate.

And he’s shouting at her, bitter words on his tongue, accusations of no substance. But then it softens for a moment, her name called out with speak of _reasons_ and she wants nothing more than to run to him and never let go, to spill her secrets and her reasons and to hold onto him through the pain, just cling to him. The darkness seems to know something is off, which would usually bother her, except she has Excalibur in her hand and time is on her side.

So just this once, she indulges. Just this once, she allows her emotions free reign. “You want to know why I’m doing all of this?” she fumes, clenching her fists and turning to face him, eyes meeting his in a heartbeat. Everything stops, a silent battle waging between the two of them before she finally finishes, “I’m doing this for you.”

It’s instant – his face falls, his expression turning from a frown to a look of incredulousness, his blue eyes stormy. “Emma,” he whispers and she wonders briefly if he meant it to come out stronger.

She can’t find out though; she has to stay focused on saving him.

Waving a hand through the air, she gets out of there.

Exaclibur clatters against the tiles like any other sword as Emma clutches the edge of the table in her dining room with one hand and reaches for the ring which is still around her neck, buried beneath the leather façade, with her other. Her fingers wrap around it desperately as her breathing steadies out, the cool metal reminding her again and again of her soul focus.

It was supposed to be easy, she was supposed to be able to get this done without him knocking past her walls. Again.

But he’s somehow pushed his way through.

And _“Damn him”_ , she thinks, as her fingertips smooth over the surface of the ring, he’s bested her.

…


End file.
